Worth the Cost
by MommieJen
Summary: Takes place in about '73-74. Not slash, just friendship. A deep, understanding friendship formed by survivng together. My head canon is that Murdock really needed the help the VA offered at first, but then stayed for the benefit of the team. This one-shot reflects that. It's been a while, and I fear I'm a bit rusty, but here it is.


** I claim no ownership of TAT or anything associated with them. Too bad! **

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Trying his best to stay upright, he spit a mouthful of blood after the muddy boot made contact with his jaw. He failed. Spectacularly. Hard to keep your balance when you're on your knees and your hands are tied behind your back for hours on end, leaving your arms numb up to your shoulders. He toppled.

He fell over, only to hit something...soft? That wasn't right. Jerking awake, he patted the bed to make sure he was really there. Real bed, check. Pillow, check. Blanket, check. Luxury grade bed, pillow, and blanket at that thanks to a few charming smiles and the promise of a date.

Which meant he was here and not there. Face sighed and rubbed his forehead. He hadn't had one of those dreams in a few months. He blinked himself more awake. They were in a hotel in Arizona, Hannibal and B.A. in the room right next door to the room he was sharing with Murdock for the night. So why the hell was he dreaming about torture, ropes, rotting corpses, and maggot-infused rice? And why was the TV on in the middle of the night?

The TV. Face groaned. It all made sense now as he could hear the voice-over coming from the other side of the room. "Murdock..." Face sat up on the side of the bed in the dark room, the only light coming from the glowing screen.

"Treatment of the American POWs in Vietnam range from torturous to inhumane, and if they are able to survive the harsh conditions and brutal torture to return home, many are treated like villains in their own country," the narrator's voice droned on in the documentary.

Shit. Face noticed Murdock rubbing his wrists as the screen showed footage of emaciated men struggling to just walk in a line, a rope connecting each of them together at the neck. It quickly changed to a shot of a small group of prisoners on their knees with their wrists bound behind them and held up high with parachute cord. The grainy images were enough to make anyone's stomach lurch, connected to the war or not. It flashed to images of Hueys landing and unloading both the living and the dead.

It was the scenes of soldiers washing out the backs of the choppers, streams of red running from them, that spurred Face to action and he finally turn it off. He closed his eyes for a moment to get his own bearings. That footage was grainy, but when he saw it, it was clear as day. Some things you always remember, even if you don't think about it.

"Murdock?" Face turned on the lamp and looked at him questioningly, waiting for an answer; knowing it was an unspoken rule to stay away from those kinds of shows. "What gives?"

"Couldn't sleep. You were out cold so I didn't want to wake you. Channel surfing trying to find Woody Woodpecker and once I didn't immediately click away from this, I couldn't. I guess I just tumbled down into the dark hole and got lost." Murdock still held a hand over his wrist, gingerly rubbing it.

"Hurt your wrist?"

Murdock seemed to realize then what he was doing. "Nah. It's...it's alright." He blinked a few times and forced himself to focus on Face. "It's fine. I'm fine."

"Of course you are," Face tossed him a bottle of water from the mini fridge. "Going to be able to sleep?"

Murdock flopped back on his bed with style. "Now why, my good chap," he grinned widely as he suddenly became British, "would I not be able to sleep for the rest of the night?"

He was bluffing and Face knew it. "Try to get some sleep. Light on or off?" He held his finger to the switch, knowing sometimes a light helped Murdock sleep.

The only response was Murdock's obviously fake snoring and mumbling about fish and chips. Face shook his head and crashed into his own bed again, but left the small side lamp on. He laid there and thought for a while. He knew Murdock would be alright someday. At least he hoped so. He needed him to be alright. But for now, he clearly was still on the road to recovery. It had been Hannibal's idea to spring him for a quick R&R weekend as a gauge of whether they thought he was ready to fly again. This was the first night, and so far, no judgement calls were made. Eventually, he pulled the blanket up over his head to block out the light and tried to catch whatever sleep he could for the rest of the night.

"Face."

He opened his eyes instantly. "I'm here, Murdock." He glanced at the clock only to find barely an hour had passed.

"FACE! What did you do to him?" Murdock's voice was louder now, a clear threat.

Face sat up. Murdock sat in the center of the other bed, legs crossed. The look on his face was one he hadn't seen since they were in country. Hardened. Tormented. There was no bluffing in this threat. He heard a very slight tap on the door adjoining the two rooms, and Face swiftly opened it to let both Hannibal and BA in. The more the merrier, he figured.

"I'm right here, Murdock. I'm fine. Perfectly fine. It's a nightmare, that's all."

Even though it was Face that spoke, Murdock jumped up and faced Hannibal. "Fine? You return him after five days, more dead than alive, and you call that fine?"

Face shivered involuntarily. Oh, he was remembering that time. No wonder he was so worked up. He slowly maneuvered so he was standing directly in front of Murdock. "Murdock, I'm fine. I swear."

"Lies!" Murdock cut loose in a string of Vietnamese, of which they were only able to pick up a few words.

"Something about revenge for that pit, Hannibal," Face murmured quietly.

"Figured that out without knowin' the crazy man's words," BA started to step forward to restrain him, but Hannibal quickly held out a hand.

"Maybe it was a mistake springing him this time, Hannibal. We've only been doing this for a few months. We don't even have all the kinks worked out yet of your plan. It's only been a year." Face watched Murdock's frantic eyes as he spoke quietly. "Murdock. Can you hear me?"

"Course I can hear you! That's the problem! I hear and see all sorts of imaginary things!" Murdock spat in Face's direction.

Face was shaken. It was never easy, springing or returning Murdock. Murdock, the only one still regularly haunted by the past, the only one who regularly had that far away look in his eyes. Face had even remembered to scam some of Murdock's meds for this trip and was vigilant about making sure he got them. That last meltdown he had witnessed had left him reeling, and he never wanted to see anything like it again.

"I'm not imaginary this time, Murdock," Face responded firmly. He held out his hand. "Here. Touch my hand. It's real."

BA looked from Face to Hannibal and back to Face. Last time he had tried something like this, he had ended up in with Murdock pinning him to the wall and it had taken both BA and Hannibal to separate them. "Don't know about this, Colonel. Man's broken. As much as Face wants him fixed, we can't fix him."

"Give him a chance," Hannibal said firmly. "We're here if needed."

"Where are you, Murdock?" Still with his hand outstretched, Face asked the question.

"Dreamin I'm in some fancy hotel on R&R with my team, but stuck in this cage just like you are! Like we all are! And after what they did to you this time...I'm sorry, Face. I'm so sorry. I tried to get them to leave you alone. I tried to convince me that I was the better option, that it was me they wanted to kick around a bit. What they did to you this time… I'm not the only one who wonders if you'll make it through the night. Colonel hasn't said it, but I can see it."

Face kept his cool, but he had to focus to not let himself go there right now. It really hadn't been that long ago that they were there and he kept those nightmares pushed back as far as he could. "I'm okay now, Murdock. I did make it. We all did."

"No, Faceman," Murdock looked at him sadly. "I know we're working on a plan, but we haven't done it yet. It was going to be tonight, but now with you like this, we gotta wait a few days."

"Crazy Man's lookin right at him, but talking to the past," BA muttered. "Fix him, Face! I don't like him being all crazy again!"

"Trying, BA," Face warned quietly. "Murdock, you thirsty? I know Colonel saved a bit of water for me, but I don't need it. You do." He held out his hand and Hannibal placed a cold, opened bottle of water in it. "It's alright," he urged Murdock.

Murdock examined it. "You'll die if we don't use it to clean you up." He held it back to Hannibal. "We gotta use it on him, Hannibal."

"No we don't!" Frustrated, BA grabbed the water and threw it in Murdock's face. "Snap out of it, Fool!"

Murdock blinked, then looked around. All three of them stood around him. BA was mad. Face was concerned. Hannibal looked relieved. "Sorry, Big Guy," he mumbled. "Scuse me," he pushed his way through the crowd and closed the bathroom door behind him.

"He doesn't control it, BA!" Face snapped. "I was getting somewhere with him! I've figured out how to talk him through these things now!"

"He's crazy!" BA barked right back at him.

Hannibal spun BA around. "Back to bed for the night. Face, do what you need to do."

Face nodded silently as they disappeared. Everyone knew Face was the one best suited for the job ahead. He tapped on the bathroom door. "Murdock?"

Murdock opened it, but didn't bother looking in Face's direction as he stared into the large mirror at himself. "Guess I flunked your test, huh?" At Face's surprised look, Murdock shook his head. "I'm not an idiot, Faceman. You keep telling me that when the time is right, you'll find me a plane to take up for a bit. While I appreciate the break from the Looney Bin, not sure I like being tested by my own team."

"Murdock, listen,"

"Don't even bother. Even I don't know if I can fly without ending up back there again."

Face walked over to his brown suit jacket draped across a chair and fished around inside the pockets, returning with a folded slip of paper. "Here."

Murdock opened it, his eyes scanning it quickly before he looked back to Face. "For real?"

"You and me. Tomorrow. It's just a little single engine prop, but figured it was time you get your feet wet again." Face leaned against the doorway and watched the ear-to-ear grin spread as Murdock's entire face lit up. "And this little middle of the night party doesn't change a thing. Hell, Murdock, even I was having a nightmare with that on in the background!"

Always the most touchy feely one, Murdock gleefully threw his arms around Face. "Thanks, Face! I'll treat her real good, I promise. No antics!"

"Wouldn't be you flying without antics, Murdock," Face patted his back affectionately. "Now, I'm going back to sleep. I suggest you give up on Woody Woodpecker and try to do the same." Although he had a feeling what was going to happen, he hit the light and headed back over to his bed. "Go to sleep, Murdock."

Face heard Murdock tossing and turning for a while in the other bed as Murdock flip flopped around. He tried the covers on. Off. On again. He fluffed the pillow. He flattened the pillow. He flipped around so that his head was where his feet were supposed to be.

"Come on, Murdock. If either of us are going to get any sleep, you've got to get settled." Face sighed. "I'll make room."

It was something that they didn't talk about. Something that started after a particularly horrid few days in the camp not long after the memory Murdock had relived earlier that night. From Day One, the two of them were thick as thieves, Murdock attempting to cover for Face's shenanigans and Face covering for Murdock's occasional disappearances which he now knew were CIA related. Face thought for a moment, remembering. He hadn't been the only one tossed back more dead than alive, and in fact, it was Murdock less than a week later.

Even in the dark, Face closed his eyes. He didn't want to even remember the blank, empty look in Murdock's eyes just a few years ago. He was gone. He had managed to disassociate for days and they didn't know if they'd get him back or not. They all tried. Hannibal had talked quietly to him while he dressed the wounds as best as he could. Even BA had tried the gentle approach before resorting to insults. Face had simply dropped down in the filth and dirt beside him and said nothing. All night long, nothing but silence and the smell of jungle rot permeated between them as they sat side by side, their battered bodies just barely close enough to recognize the presence of the other.

Then it happened. After he didn't know how many hours, Murdock had moved. It was just an inch, but suddenly he was aware of the fact that Murdock was pressed up against his side. Face patted his leg gently, behind sure to stay away from the swollen knee. "You'll be alright, Murdock."

And afterward, they all knew Murdock wasn't quite the same. He didn't bounce back as easily as the rest of the team, and whenever he found himself haunted by visions, Face would often wake up and find Murdock asleep next to him, wherever they were. It helped Murdock rest and sleep, and when Murdock was able to sleep, they all were able to sleep. At the time it started, Face could acknowledge the fact that sleeping so close to each other was beneficial to both of them. They each had went through times when they needed the assurance that the other was there and okay. Now, Face convinced himself that it was all for Murdock's benefit. He didn't know how Murdock coped in the VA. He was afraid to ask.

Murdock's pillow hit Face smack in the head as he tossed it over, and soon Face found himself balancing on the edge of the bed, his own blanket pulled up around him while Murdock settled in with his own. It was worth the cost of a night of being crowded. It was worth the scamming Murdock out. It was worth the trouble of finding a plane, and even though he knew Murdock wasn't all the way back yet, he wasn't afraid to fly with him tomorrow.

He was worth it.


End file.
